


in the deep, deep blue i found you

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Consentacles, Cunnilingus, F/F, Tentacles, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 19:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Keith has been a diver all her life. She's never found anything or anyone quite like Shiro.





	in the deep, deep blue i found you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterbitch (WinterLadyy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLadyy/gifts).



> For my friend who's been feeling down. I hope you enjoy, baby! 
> 
> also for ya'll who love tentacles and femSheith like me. ;)

The silence is what drew Keith under water, the insistence of her marine biologist parents that she should also see what they see there. 

The infinite beauty of the quietly swaying corals and plants, all the different hues of blue. The danger of the pressure in deeper waters. The whispers of merpeople who live in the deeper, darker caverns and rarely show. 

 

Although Keith’s father Heath does tell her that he shook hands with a mermaid once. But Heath is prone to little frustrating jokes anyway so neither Keith or her mother Krolia believe him much.

 

Merpeople are half-myth, half-reality. 

 

To Keith, they are the first. 

 

How could a creature like that exist? 

 

So Keith dives in the deep, dark pressure and grows and glows in the deep blue. She is half-fish herself, more attuned to the silence of the world under water than the noise of the world above. She swims with the fish: the tiny ones, barely longer than her pinky, even lays her hands on a whale, heart soaring at the sight of the magnificent creature. 

 

Keith knows all of their names, dives deeper and deeper - the world above has only pain for her. 

 

Her parents pass, her little family crumbles. She throws herself in her studies and always longs for the water, always. 

 

She never sees a single mermaid but does sometimes hear the tales: of tails more beautiful, more magnificent than anything, flashes of long hair, like dreams seen for a single blink of an eye.

 

Keith has been diving since she was four - and she has never had any trouble, never any accidents, even in the most perilous dives. It’s in the underwater caves and caverns where her soul flies, in the deep green and blue and bioluminescence. 

 

It’s in the quiet where she can live, just exist as a creature, as insignificant and significant as every other creature on her planet.

 

Her heart yearns. All the time it yearns. 

 

So she dives and dives and dives and one day, one wonderful, exciting, new day, she finds a lair. It had taken Keith long time to dive through a complicated tunnel system, something she had done a thousand times before, something close to one of her supply drops but a little tunnel she hadn’t found before.

 

It can only be called a lair, this beautiful underwater oasis she finds: a single tree growing in the middle, prickly and green like something from outer space. A few fragile little flowers, pushing up towards the sprinkle of light shining from the bioluminescent mushrooms. Only once Keith surfaces, she finds there is another tunnel: a huge one. There are seashells scattered all over, what looks like a cot and - was that something moving in the other tunnel? Keith pulls off her diving mask and squints. 

 

She keeps herself afloat.

 

“Hello?” 

 

This is crazy. This is so utterly strange. There is a shadow there, shifting towards the bright green light of the biolumiscence. The shadow has its own lights too: they bloom an inviting, soft purple and Keith watches, Keith stares.

 

It’s not quite an answer she receives, a confirming hum in her head. 

 

The creature, when it comes closer, it’s - 

 

Keith swims closer, gets herself on the oasis, on the platform, shrugs off a few wet white flowers. 

 

The creature has a woman’s face and a woman’s arms and a woman’s breasts, but the bottom half of her is - the tentacles are the ones that are blooming purple, no, it’s a gentle blue now, no, it’s a silky wine red. She is a goddess, she has to be a goddess because her skin has a sweet green hue, her hair is all black and so long, a slash of white through her damp fringe. Her breasts - Keith almost feels bad for staring, but they are hypnotizing, they are as beautiful and arousing as the rest of the woman - are full and big, her nipples a faint black. 

 

She gestures at Keith. 

 

Keith slips off her flippers. Puts down her breathing mask. 

“Who are you?” The other question, what are you, is left on her tongue. “You’re beautiful,” Keith breathes out, inhaling the soft air. It’s stuck to her skin, suddenly too hot in her wetsuit, her diving gear too heavy to carry.

 

The woman, the creature, smiles. 

“You may call me Shiro,” she answers, her voice a sweet purr. 

 

Keith is wet. She swallows. “What’s. .. why do I feel so warm?” Perhaps it’s the cave, the lair, the creature’s home that is so much more warmer than the water. Keith unclasps her diving gear, undoes it entirely and lets it drop. Her hair is soaked through in its ponytail as she lets it fall. 

 

Shiro is big. If she had normal legs, she would still be bigger than Keith: if Keith stepped closer, her head would come up to Shiro’s chest. Keith can’t decide where to look: those swaying, shifting tentacles, a mass of shiny, shiny skin or those perfect tits or that perfect godlike face.

 

“You are not under a spell,” Shiro whispers and she’s closer now, her eyes a dreamy gray. Keith expects her hand to feel cold but instead it’s warm when it settles on Keith’s cheek, long fingers tickling under her jaw, lifting it. 

“I feel like I am,” Keith whispers, entranced. 

 

The mermaid sways softly, hypnotizing Keith further. “You are very pretty, curious little human.” Keith twitches: two of Shiro’s tentacles are caressing her legs, curiously curling around her ankles. 

“I-it’s Keith.” 

 

“Do not be afraid, little Keith,” Shiro purrs. When she speaks, her perfect, full lips part to reveal lines of needle-sharp teeth. She’s a gorgeous monster, an ethereal goddess. Her fingers are warm as she resumes stroking Keith’s jaw, brushes her thumb over Keith’s lips. “I only eat humans if they offer themselves to me. And even then only if there is nothing else. I find you quite hard to swallow.” 

 

More tentacles begin wrapping around Keith’s immobile legs, pulling her closer until she’s pressed against Shiro’s tits, perfectly soft. She inhales sharply, closes her eyes for a single heartbeat. She’s dripping, she’s so unbearably aware of just how soaked she is, dripping dripping dripping under her wetsuit. 

 

If she were bare, her nipples would be sharp as rocks, she would be spreading her legs for whatever Shiro has to give. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Keith whispers, breathless. She squeezes Shiro’s breasts, moans at the sight of that soft, pale flesh yielding to her hands. 

“So are you, sweet thing,” Shiro whispers back and then kisses her, keeps her jaw lifted, mouths meeting wetly, hotly.

 

Anything Keith was supposed to be doing vanishes into the gently insistent pressure of the tentacles wrapping around her. She kneads Shiro’s tits and breaks the kiss, cups one breast and brings the nipple to her lips. She sucks hard enough to make Shiro twitch. 

 

“Baby girl,” Shiro purrs, strokes Keith’s hair. “Is that what you want? Or is it more?” Her tentacles keep wandering, spreading their slick slime all over Keith’s wetsuit. 

 

Shiro’s nipple is bigger than Keith’s, Keith twirls her tongue on the hard nub and takes pleasure in the way it hardens further. The tentacles brush her groin, begin to rub when they - or Shiro - notice how she jolts. “Oh, fuck.” 

 

“This what you want, baby girl?” Shiro pushes her tits into Keith’s hands, laughs, pleased, when Keith groans and nibbles them, bites them, milks them even when nothing comes out. Keith shifts her legs apart. There is a zipper there, easy to open. Perhaps Shiro hears because the next thing Keith hears is the zipper being opened, her bare skin meeting the sticky, warm air of the room. 

 

“You’ve put a spell on me,” Keith moans as she lifts her head once more to meet Shiro’s lips. “I’m so fucking wet, Shiro, fuck.” Her wetsuit is being ripped away from her, everything that covers her sex from those searching, probing tentacles is pulled away, set aside until she’s left naked and shivering in Shiro’s thick, muscled arms. 

“There is no spell on you, sweetheart,” Shiro murmurs. “This is all you. All my presence does is bring your deepest desire to the surface.” Her tentacles vary in size, but they’re all gorgeous, the base colour black, the hue shifting from purple to green to blue to red to yellow. They’re firm as they grip Keith, keep her in place, stroke her strong thighs, stroke her back, her tits - so small compared to Shiro’s - and her ass. When they brush Keith’s engorged clit, she whines out loud.

 

She tries to rub herself against the tentacle but it slithers  away before she can. She clings to Shiro’s arms and bites Shiro’s lip.

“You are a goddess,” Keith murmurs and wants to be closer, closer, closer. She rubs herself against Shiro instead, smiles when Shiro’s lips part in a gasp and when her green-hued cheeks turn pink. 

 

“Sweetness, if only you could see yourself now,” Shiro purrs and slips away from Keith, but only to nudge aside tentacles to reveal something quite like a cunt of her own: an inviting, gently glowing wet cunt where it would be if she were human. Shiro winks. Keith whimpers, drops down to all fours, crawls closer and buries her face there, inhales a lungful of Shiro, nothing but Shiro and licks. 

 

“Oh, sweetness. Oh, baby.” Wherever this woman has learned these words, Keith doesn’t know. All Keith knows is the divine taste of Shiro’s twitching cunt and the tentacles and big, beautiful hands caressing her. Finally the tentacles find Keith’s cunt and dive in: first the thin top, just a little in, just exploring, making her mewl. 

 

She pushes against them, licks licks licks and grows wetter by the second until she’s damp to her thighs. The tentacles find her small tits and squeeze, wrap around them and squeeze until she’s bucking her hips and moaning loudly into the intriguing, divine pussy. Keith knows she’s drenched to the chin with Shiro’s slick, doesn’t care one bit as the tentacles tug her upright again and Shiro’s lips find hers again. 

 

“Fuck,” Keith groans, wraps her arms around Shiro’s neck. 

“Mmmm,” Shiro agrees. Her tentacle surges further in, it has little nubs, little ridges that rub rub rub and spread Keith around it. Keith twitches and jolts, barely notices or cares when the tentacles pull her up from the floor to keep her afloat, her legs spread, her arms pulled behind her back. One slips between her open, panting lips and she sucks it eagerly, moans and shudders and faintly understands it has to be aphrodisiac to humans.

 

It doesn’t matter, nothing matters but hearing Shiro call her name and call her fierce, sublime, gorgeous, beautiful: Shiro fucks into her roughly, chokes her with her tentacles, fucks her mouth, her pussy, even her ass and eats up all of Keith’s slick, everything she squirts when the biggest, thickest tentacle jackhammers her into submission for the fifth time. 

 

“You are so good, sweet Keith, my sweet Keith,” Shiro whispers when she licks Keith’s pussy, licks her own thick come out and strokes Keith’s slightly bulging belly. “You feel so good around my tentacles, such a hot, warm cunt. You are an angel, sent to me. Aren’t you?” Her murmurs are low and husky, whispered against Keith’s quivering form. 

 

“Yes, whatever you want, yes,” Keith groans. Her legs are aching from being so held apart, her pussy is in pleasure-pain from the abuse it has taken already but the fire inside of her is still burning, still lit. The tentacles keep caressing her and she’s drenched. She no longer knows up from down, Shiro’s come from her own: her thighs are slick with it, her pussy, her ass, her tits even slicker. 

 

“So cute,” Shiro growls and her arm muscles tighten around Keith’s waist, this time it’s her fingers that explore Keith’s mouth, come out wet. “One more, baby? Can you give me one more? Two more?” Slowly, slowly a tentacle, no, two, slide into Keith’s gaping pussy, push in and in and in until her belly is bulging, until she’s certain she can feel them right in her womb. Inside there is no pain but infinite, divine pleasure. 

 

“Good girl.” Shiro’s needle-sharp teeth leave marks on Keith’s previously unbruised skin. “Your skin is flawless. So pretty and pale.” Pink mark after pink mark, from the jaw to the neck to the heaving tits. Shiro’s tongue is long and sharp and just rough enough that Keith whines when it rubs her skin and her overstimulated nipples.

 

What is up, what is down, what is left, what is right. There is nothing but Shiro’s mouth and her kisses, her tentacles and her powerful arms wrapped around Keith, enveloping her in warmth. 

 

If tears drop sudden and unwanted to her cheeks, Shiro makes no mention of it, merely calls her an angel again. Wipes those tears away. 

 

Keith’s heart is full and she no longer yearns. 

 

“Sweet thing, will you stay with me?” Shiro asks, again and again, lays Keith down on the soft, wet ground, gently, gently like Keith was a feather, a broken bird. 

“You have wandered into my home but you are no intruder, you taste sweeter than anything I have ever had.” Shiro lays kisses on the bitemarks, lets her lips linger. “I can smell and taste the ocean on you, Keith. Your love for it echoes in my heart, shines on you so clearly.” 

 

Keith’s eyelids are drooping, arousal giving way to utter, bone-deep exhaustion. She aches, oh, how she aches. 

“Don’t go,” she whispers, eyes closed, reaching out. 

 

Her hands are grabbed, kissed, tentacles hissing faintly as they slither around Keith to pull her against Shiro’s chest once more. Those soft, big breasts are a better pillow than the ground. Keith nuzzles against them. 

“I won’t,” Shiro whispers, caresses her baby girl to sleep.


End file.
